


Multiversal Moments

by DangerousCommieSubversive



Series: Our Bright, Disturbing Multiverse [10]
Category: DCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Young Avengers
Genre: Costume Kink, Deleted Scenes, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multiverse, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Roleplay, Snippets, Temperature Play, occasionally NSFW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/DangerousCommieSubversive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of snippets and "deleted scenes" connected to various Multiverse stories. Most were originally posted to <a href="dangerouscommiesubversive.tumblr.com">my Tumblr</a>; they're variably rated, and come in at different times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taskmaster Talks To A Fan

**Author's Note:**

> These initial pieces are all posted in in-universe chronological order. Further pieces may be posted out of order, but all of them will have a note at the beginning explaining where they fit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr: "Here’s a “deleted” scene from The God Invasion—I wanted to write it into the actual story, but there wasn’t any space for it in the flow of the San Diego chapters, so I had to skip it. The thought stuck with me, though (and with the Boy, who’s a big Tasky fan and thought it’d be fun), so I just got it written up."

The guy was probably nineteen or twenty, and he was listing to one side under the weight of a massive, garishly-decorated bag stuffed with comics, toys, t-shirts, and various bits of convention memorabilia. He had a thin trade paperback comic clutched to his chest, a signature scrawled across its title in permanent marker.

Taskmaster pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the commotion as behind him Doom made an entrance, and said, “Does that thing have my face on the cover?”

The guy stared at him and then said, hesitantly, “Um...yeah. That's your miniseries. I'm a big fan.”

“Of _me?_ ”

“Well, sure. You're my favorite character. Um, I'm John, by the way. You've got the skull mask, and the sword and the hood, and you have a cool gimmick, and—”

Taskmaster held up a hand. “Ok, I get it. I'm cool. You like me. You don't write fanfiction, right?”

“Uh. No.”

“In that case I have a few questions. Here, let's get out of the way.” He glanced around at the crowds, pulled out his sword, and waved it around just enough to make people jump back. Once a path to the wall was clear he nodded. “Over here.”

John followed him over to the corner, hiding behind his shield as around them other fans screamed and tried to hide from Taskmaster's employers and the army of Doombots. “What's happening?”

“Attempted world domination. Not really relevant to my questions. Don't worry, you'll be fine.”

“Um...ok. What did you want to know?”

“Well, first off...what's my name?”

John stared at him. “...it's true? You really don't know?”

Taskmaster sighed. “Not a clue, kid. Enlighten me.”

“...your name is Tony Masters.”

“Have I always been a crook?”

“No. You're a SHIELD agent. Or at least you probably were, I don't know if you're from an alternate Earth or something.”

And that...that took some absorbing by itself. Taskmaster frowned behind his mask, staring down at the signed comic that John still held in one hand. Behind him, the Doombots were herding the fans like sheep, forcing them into groups at the direction of Doom and the others. He shook his head. “I think maybe you should just tell me everything you know about me.”

“Well, you first showed up in _Avengers_ in 1980...”

By the time John had gotten through the plot of his own comic and a bit past, Taskmaster was thorough confused, and honestly pretty worried about most things. He knew, from his prior conversation with that comic store clerk, that there was a lot of divergence between his own world and the stories this world told, but he wasn't sure how much in his case—he wasn't in any of the movies. How much of his life was he missing?

“Wait. Did you just say I might have a _kid?_ ”

John nodded, by now so engrossed in the minutia of comic book storytelling that he was completely ignoring the battle that raged around them. “Yeah. Jeanne Foucault—Finesse. She's one of the Avengers Academy kids...do you have them where you're from?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Well, um, she might not be around yet, then. Or she's really young. Here—” John dug into his massive bag and produced a second copy of the _Taskmaster_ miniseries, this one unsigned. “I got this one as a reading copy so I wouldn't risk messing up my signed one. You have it. I can get another.”

Taskmaster took the comic, startled. “Really? That's...nice of you.”

“You _are_ my favorite.” Then John pulled out a Sharpie. “Sign my comic?”

“Sure, why not.” He took the Sharpie, signed the cover of John's comic underneath the signature already there, and then tucked the copy John had given him into his tunic. “Thanks, kid, you've given me a lot to think about—”

—and there was Wade, katana held to the throat of a terrified cosplayer, shouting something obscene at Black Widow.

Taskmaster could feel a migraine coming on. “Oh, for fuck's sake, Wade!”

Wade flipped him off, and behind his shoulder John said, “Oh my god, is that actually Deadpool?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Look, kid, go find somewhere safe to hide. I think I'm gonna have to break a contract.”


	2. Loki Holds The Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr: "This scene was written at the request of my friend Ook, who was curious to see some interaction between Loki and the infant Merlin. I figured that today would be a good day to post it, as things aren’t going too well for Merlin in 'Worlds Enough,' and this is something nice from his life."

Bobby knocked on the door with some apprehension. “You think it'll be all right? She won't kill me just because I'm kinda late?”

“She's more likely to kill me for making you late, beloved.” Loki sighed. “The sooner you knock on the door the sooner this will be over with.”

“Ooh, touchy. I don't think she'll stab you around the baby.” Bobby took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

From inside the apartment came a shout of, “Just a minute!” and the sound of clattering, and then the door opened to reveal Shelly, wearing a plaid bathrobe over a set of Hello Kitty pajamas, the baby cradled in one arm. There was what appeared to be half of a cookie caught in her hair, but when she saw them she smiled. “Oh my god, Bobby! It took you _ages_ to visit! Carol went to the store, so she can't say hi yet, but—come in, both of you!”

The two men stepped into the living room, closing the door behind them. The apartment was significantly less clean than it had been the last time Bobby had visited. Normally it was very neat, because Carol didn't like disorder. Now the room was a mess, scattered with baby toys, pacifiers, books, and DVDs. Shelly didn't look bothered by the mess at all. On the contrary she seemed thrilled, and the baby watched them with curious blue eyes.

Bobby looked around and blinked before focusing on the real subject at hand. “So this is him? This is my very first nephew? Is Sal pissed that you managed to have a boy before she did?”

“She's dealing with it. I think she and Mom are just relieved that I managed to have a kid at all. I told you how they freaked out when I got together with Carol, right? Sit, so I can show off.” They all sat, Loki in an armchair and Shelly and Bobby side by side on the couch, and Shelly readjusted the baby in her arms. “Merlin, this is your uncle Bobby. And Loki. Bobby, Loki, this is my son, Merlin Anthony Baker.”

Bobby, appropriately enough, leaned forward and began to coo at the baby, who giggled and smiled a toothless smile. Loki, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow. “You named him after a third-rate Celtic witch doctor? And _Stark?_ ”

Shelly stuck out her tongue at him. “A merlin, for your information, is a kind of hawk. And Carol's brother's name is Anthony.”

“Hm. Noted.”

“And _speaking_ of hawks, Shelly-bean...” Bobby wiggled his eyebrows. “Was it fun?”

Shelly turned pink. “I did _not_ sleep with Clint. Apparently fertility treatments go a lot faster when you've got help from a super-scientist from another dimension. Anyway what _took_ you so long? I thought you were going to be visiting sooner, it's been almost five months since Merlin was born.”

“Well, I'm back in school now, so I had some work I had to do there. And then I got arrested, and we couldn't come to visit until Loki broke me out.”

A pause, and then, “You got _arrested?_ ” The pitch of her voice rose sharply, and in her arms the baby emitted a distressed burbling sound. “For _what?_ ”

Suddenly Bobby was staring into space, trying to look innocent. “I _may_ have stolen the Lincoln Memorial and painted it paisley.”

“You...you _what?_ ”

“And before that I almost _definitely_ filled the Wall Street Stock Exchange with hallucinogenic gas.”

_“Why?”_

“For art!” In the armchair Loki cleared his throat, and Bobby shot him a grin. “ _And_ for Loki. It was an anniversary present.”

“Wait...did you wear a costume when you did all this? And call yourself something different?”

“Well, sure. Nobody's going to take me seriously as an international criminal _artiste_ if I'm just calling myself Bobby. Or Simon. So I told them my name was Discord.”

Shelly stared at Bobby for a moment, glanced down at the baby in her arms, and then looked around the living room. The play pen was too far away. The bassinet was on the floor at the other end of the coffee table. But this? This required action, not just words.

“Here.” She handed the baby to Loki, took a deep breath, and then dived on Bobby. “You're a _supervillain?_ You couldn't come see your nephew because you're a _supervillain_ now?”

“Hey, don't _pound_ me, I have to give a _presentation_ tomorrow—”

As the pair on the couch descended into a cloud of semi-loving familial pummeling, Loki looked down at the baby he'd been handed with some bemusement. The baby regarded him solemnly in return, emitting another inarticulate burble. He nodded. “I see.”

Another glance at the couch showed that the brawl probably wasn't going to be stopping any time soon.

“This is probably the only time I'll have to speak to you privately, young man, so I suppose I'll make the most of the opportunity.” Loki adjusted his grip so that the baby was settled more comfortably. “You will find, as you get older, that the world is not fair. It is not kind. It is not loving. Nobody in the world is obligated to ensure that you succeed.”

The baby gurgled.

“Don't interrupt me, child, I'm not finished. The world is cruel, but if you know how to take advantage of it then this is not necessarily a bad thing. You will be better served by cunning than by brute strength.” He paused, pondering for a moment. “I don't especially like two of your three parents, and I can't give you wit—that you will have to develop for yourself. But out of respect for Carol as a fellow though inferior sorcerer, and out of love for my priest, who loves your mothers, I will give you a gift. Or rather I will augment one that you have already.” He bent down and kissed the baby lightly on the forehead. “May your aim always be true, Merlin Anthony Baker.”

The baby smiled toothlessly at him and then burped. Loki sighed. “Infants have no sense of occasion.”

“Frosty? What are you doing here?”

Loki twisted around to find Carol standing next to his chair, carrying several bags of groceries. He jerked his chin at the couch. “I'm holding the baby, as should be perfectly clear. Your harridan felt the urge to chastise her cousin for some of his new hobbies, and needed both her hands free.” He sniffed the air, and his nose wrinkled as the baby began, abruptly, to cry. “However, the infant needs changing now, and so I will pass him on to you. I don't much relish diaper changing.”

“You're probably better at it than I am. Don't you have kids?”

“Six of them, but it doesn't follow that I enjoy dealing with their filth. And in any case three of my children didn't _wear_ diapers, and those who did were generally changed by their mothers or our servants. And these plastic diapers you humans use confound me.”

“Sexist, but ok.” Carol set her bags down and took the baby from Loki. “You can put the groceries away then, Mr. Can't Change A Diaper.”

By the time the brawl on the couch had degenerated into laughter and attack tickling, the baby was in a clean diaper and Loki had rearranged the entire refrigerator and most of the cabinets in the process of putting away the groceries. Shelly stared at the kitchen. “What did you _do?_ ”

“I _cleaned._ It was a _mess_ in here.”

“Loki only approves of mess when it's books.” Bobby grinned, edging over so that Carol could sit down between him and Shelly. “Otherwise he's kind of OCD. Anyway, congratulations, Carol! You're a mom!”

Carol beamed at him. “Yeah, check it out. We made a tiny person.”

Loki snorted as he alphabetized boxes of cereal. “It's not a person until it can lie.”


	3. You, Young Man, Are Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of five scenes in sequence that take place after [Kiddo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/541117). This one is, in fact, _directly_ after the end of that story--right after Billy and Teddy get off chat.

“Oh my god, are you _purring?_ That's _so cute._ I didn't know you purred.”

“I, uh, didn't know I purred either. This is sort of a first. I think it's...um...situational.”

“I win at life. I get a hot alien superhero boyfriend who _purrs._ ”

“You like it?”

“It's _adorable._ ”

“ _You're_ adorable.”

“We're so lame.”

_Tap tap._

“Mm. What's that noise?”

“...Billy, there's a supervillain knocking on my bedroom window.”

“...what?”

“There's a _supervillain_ knocking on my bedroom window and _I'm not wearing anything._ ”

“Oh _shit._ I'm in _so_ much trouble. I'm not supposed to be teleporting without supervision right now.”

“He looks annoyed.”

“He's always annoyed. I just hope he's not angry with me. Here, hang on a second...” Billy scrabbled around on the floor next to the bed for his boxers and managed to pull them on without disturbing the comforter. “I promise I won't let him do anything to you. If he turns me into a frog _please_ try to get him to turn me back.” He snatched Teddy's bathrobe from the back of his desk chair and pulled it on before going over and opening the window.

Loki leaned into the room, raising an eyebrow. “Have you indulged your youthful desire for rebellion enough yet? I don't think I need to tell you that you've broken a number of rules here.”

“Yeah. Um. Sorry?” Billy scratched the back of his head. “Please don't turn me into a frog.”

“Young man, if you hadn't ignored my instructions at least once I would have been severely disappointed in you. And anyway Bobby requested that I not bother you until you two had gotten some time to yourselves.” Loki peered at Teddy. “You didn't tell me your boyfriend was a Skrull. I suppose that _does_ explain a great deal.”

Teddy swallowed hard. “How. How do you know I'm a Skrull?”

“There are a number of signs, but it was the post-coital purring I heard as I approached that clinched it. Thor tells me that after a particularly enjoyable evening the noise can be thunderous.” Off their disbelieving looks, he said, “It used to be a hobby of his. He and Fandral would travel the Nine Worlds together, seeking out interesting new races and seducing them. I didn't often participate, but I _was_ forced to listen to all of his stories. Do you also have Kree blood? You have a blue flush on your chest.”

Teddy pulled the comforter up higher, blushing. Billy shifted slightly so he was standing in front of the bed, blocking Loki's view. The god had an acquisitive way of looking at people that he didn't like to see applied to his boyfriend. “So I am in trouble or what?”

“Not for the moment. But the next time you feel the need to visit, let me know.” Loki paused, pondering something. “Bobby tells me that the appropriate term is booty call. Normally I would trust him, but he sounds too amused.”

Billy's ears went hot. “That's _not_ what...please never say booty call again.”

“If you like.” Loki leaned to the side a bit to catch Teddy's eye again. “Young man, you are welcome to come over for dinner sometime. I've always liked the Skrulls. Billy Kaplan, if you are not back in England and asleep in under ten minutes I _will_ turn you into a frog. Tomorrow we will be starting your actual training in defensive magic, and you will need to be rested.”


	4. Divination Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after [Kiddo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/541117)\--a sample of Discord's teaching style, and a little bit of ominous foreshadowing.

Billy woke to the sound of shouting from downstairs.

At first it sounded like gibberish, and he was confused. Then, as he woke up more, he realized that it was Icelandic. Still incomprehensible to him, but not babble.

He dressed and cleaned his teeth slowly, not wanting to walk into the middle of an argument. It was strange hearing Simon and Loki fight; for such contentious people they had an oddly quiet home life. He'd heard Simon argue with students, with colleagues, with store clerks, with random assholes on the street, but never with Loki. And Loki, for his part, did everything Simon asked him to do with a calm acquiescence that was really pretty weird.

It was like hearing his _parents_ fight.

They acted like his parents, actually. It was like they'd made a game of it, taking turns being strict and indulging him outrageously. Even Prometheus didn't get fussed over so much, and Simon _loved_ that cat, fat and bossy as it was.

When he got downstairs Loki wasn't there. Frowning, he went into the kitchen. “Good morning?”

“Morning, kiddo.” Simon pulled him into a sideways hug, kissing him absently on the temple in a way that made Billy think of his mom. “Hope we didn't wake you.”

“No, no, you didn't.” At Simon's gesture Billy passed him the bowl of omelette fillings. “Where's Loki?”

“Off in a huff. Probably in the middle of the Atlantic already, looking for tuna and harassing the sharks.”

“Oh. ...you had a fight?”

“It happens sometimes.”

“But he said we were going to start crossfire training today.” Billy started making the bacon as he talked.

“You'll start tomorrow.” Simon smiled at him. “Today you get a lesson with me. Can't let the day go to waste. Honestly, though, he's such a brat sometimes. You'd think _he's_ the gay one.”

Billy blinked. “He's not? But...”

“He's from Asgard. They have very different ideas about sexuality here. He's not _really_ any one thing.” A pause. “ _I,_ however, am both an artist and as swishy as they come— _mostly_ by choice, mind you—and even _I_ think sometimes he goes a little overboard when he's feeling dramatic.”

When they got to the table, Billy said, shyly, “How did you meet him? You've never said before.”

“Oh, he seduced me.”

Billy turned pink. “Really?”

“ _Oh_ yeah. I was fitting him for a suit—I thought he was a German tourist—and he convinced me to...well.” Simon coughed. “And then the next day I bought him lunch and he seduced me again, except _that_ time we were in a museum.”

“When did you find out he was...Loki?”

“Right before the third time.”

“Right _before?_ ”

Simon coughed again. “He was blue. I have a documented weakness for blue people. Nightcrawler, Beast, Mystique even...I got a little overexcited.”

Billy was too embarassed to say anything to that. It wasn't like he could really _call_ Simon on it when _he_ was dating a guy who frequently turned _green._ (And no, he hadn't had that thought. Never considered naked green fun time. Much. Maybe a little.)

After breakfast they cleared the dishes and went to the living room. Simon gestured for him to sit. “So. Divination.”

“Loki said he wasn't going to teach me divination.”

“He's not. I am. He doesn't know how; that's one of the things I do for him.” Simon snapped his fingers, and suddenly the table was covered with a red scarf, under which were several lumps of various shapes. “Pick your poison.”

Billy frowned. “I can't see what I'm picking, though.”

“Nope. You pick with your instincts. If this were one of my seminars we'd just go through every method, but we don't have time for that, and you're not picking for academic study. This is for practical use. So just reach out and put your hand on whatever you get the best vibe from.”

“Ok...” Hesitantly Billy reached out, taking a deep breath. This wasn't like any of Loki's lessons. Loki didn't believe in taking things slow, _or_ letting the student make any serious decisions. He just lectured and then plunged right into practical demonstrations.

His hand hovered over a soft mound, a probable deck of cards, and something that looked like a bundle of sticks before settling, finally, on something that felt right, some hard dome underneath the fabric.

“This one.”

“Ooh. Scrying. Good for you, kiddo, that's a fun one. Tricky, but fun.” Simon snapped his fingers again and the table was clear of everything except the object Billy had picked—an upturned bowl made of some smooth black stone. “Take that. It's yours. Nobody touches it but you.”

The bowl felt good in his hands, and though Billy tried to pay attention as Simon went off on a short lecture about the history of scrying, he wasn't really listening. He just turned the bowl over and over, marveling at its polished interior, running his fingers along its edge. He wasn't sure what it was made of. Clay? Obsidian? Basalt, maybe? Whatever it was, he liked it.

“Kiddo.”

He jumped. “Yes? Sorry! I was listening!”

“Liar.” Simon leaned across the table and ruffled his hair affectionately. “That's _definitely_ the one for you. You've gone all dreamy. You look like you do when you're thinking about your guy.”

“I do? I have a look for that?”

“Yep. Here, though, I'll tell you what _my_ teacher told _me:_ it's a tool. Love it all you like, yes, but don't get too attached. A window isn't much use if you can't look beyond it to what's on the other side.”

He thought about that. “Who was your teacher?”

“Freyja.”

“The _goddess?_ ”

“Of course. Serious divination is mostly women's work on Asgard. Frigga—that's Loki's mom—taught me a little too.”

“Is _that_ why Loki doesn't know how?”

“Partially, but mostly it's that he doesn't have the right kind of focus. He's too...restless. Divination requires a kind of relaxation that he's really never been capable of, even before...stuff. Anyway, put it down on the table and fill it with water. No, don't get up, use magic.”

Billy did as he was told, frowning as the bowl filled. “I'm supposed to see something in it, right? Like a magic mirror?”

“Like a _vision,_ kiddo. You can't just tell it what you want to see, you need to be in the right mental state. So your scrying bowl is full, but you can't just start staring into it and expect to see something. What we _start_ with is meditation.”

“I thought you didn't meditate the way Loki and I do.”

“Not typically, but it doesn't mean that I can't. So, eyes shut, kiddo. Nine-fold breath. Count it out with me.”

Billy shut his eyes and took a deep breath, and Simon began talking him through the beginnings of trance. He knew how to meditate, of course, and didn't really need the help, but it was interesting to note how different it felt, listening to Simon's sing-song gay-New-Yorker lilt as opposed to Loki's inexplicably British drawl. Simon's voice was also gentler, less tinged with impatience and irritability than Loki's, and Billy could see how Loki would not be sufficiently relaxed for some kinds of magic.

“Open your eyes and look into the bowl.”

He opened his eyes slowly, deep in the dreamy void of trance, and gazed into the dark waters in his scrying bowl. “What should I look for?”

“We'll start with something simple, something close to your heart. That'll be easier to see. So, concentrate on Teddy. What's he doing right now?”

 _Teddy._ He brought the image of his boyfriend into his mind. _What's Teddy doing right now?_

“Don't push. Don't strain. Scrying is a matter of letting the vision come to you. Wait for it.”

Different again from Loki, who was _always_ pushing, and telling him to push himself.

He stared into the bowl, thinking of Teddy. _Show me Teddy, show me what he's doing now._ For long seconds—or minutes, or maybe hours—nothing happened.

Then, slowly, he saw the water fill with smoke, and then the smoke cleared and he saw...

Teddy's room, from the top down. Teddy was in bed, asleep. _Of course he's still asleep. It's, what, four-thirty in the morning there?_ He was sprawled on top of the covers, snoring gently, and he'd apparently fallen asleep fully-clothed and pencil in hand. A clipboard lay on his stomach, with a half-finished drawing clipped it.

 _I wonder if I could..._ and even as Billy thought it, he found the vision zooming in on the drawing. As it became clearer he found himself blushing a bit despite his detached mental state. Teddy had been making a picture of _him._ It was incredibly detailed—Billy didn't even know all of the details himself. He could have used it as a mirror to shave, especially since _do I always miss that spot back near the jawline? I know I haven't been shaving for very long..._

“Seeing something? What's your guy up to?”

“He's asleep. He fell asleep drawing a picture of me.” The margins of the paper, he could see, were peppered with doodled details—his eyes, his mouth, one of his hands raised to cast a spell. _Simon draws Loki like that._ “He's always doing this—falling asleep in his clothes like that. I gave him that shirt.”

“You have a knack for scrying, kiddo. Look for something else, now. How about...people are easiest to start with, so look for Loki. He'll be a little harder to lock down than Teddy.”

“Ok.”

As soon as he stopped focusing on Teddy, the image in the water dissolved into smoke. _Loki. Show me Loki._

He concentrated, the lazy focus that seemed to have worked the first time. The smoke in the water began to roil and roll, but didn't clear. He frowned slightly. “It's not showing me anything.”

“Loki has defenses. You may not get anything. Just relax, kiddo. This is just an initial test.”

He watched the smoke shift restlessly in the scrying bowl, and after a while his mind began to wander. _Loki...I wonder what they were fighting about this morning. They always start speaking another language when they want to hide something from me._

The smoke cleared. He blinked.

It was showing him...the kitchen? But it wasn't the kitchen _now,_ it was the kitchen earlier in the morning, because Simon was making breakfast and Loki was leaning in the doorway, and they were arguing.

He could hear them, too. They were still speaking Icelandic, but for some reason now he could understand it.

Simon was chopping vegetables at the prep island, shoulders tight, and he looked angry. “<He's too young.>”

“<Don't be ridiculous, beloved. If he's old enough to choose to fight, then he's old enough to choose a side to fight for. I'll speak with him on the subject today.>”

“<Don't you _dare._ >”

“<Don't _forbid_ me things. You cannot _possibly—_ >”

“<If you pull a stunt like that right now we'll lose him forever! I _like_ him! >” At that, Loki's eyes narrowed, and Simon-in-the-vision snorted derisively. “<Oh, don't be _tasteless,_ you possessive ass. Not like _that._ He's _seventeen,_ for fuck's sake. >”

“<Sometimes I wonder why I ever bothered kidnapping you. If I'd known that you'd get so _above_ yourself— >”

“<Oh, now I'm getting _above myself!_ This from the man who would starve to death if _I_ didn't remind him to eat. Sometimes _I_ wonder why I don't just go find _another_ supervillain to do everything for. I should call up Victor, he'd appreciate me. Hell, he'd give me a room just to _annoy_ you. >”

“<You would _dare—_ I could freeze the very _flesh_ from your _bones_ if you tried it. >”

“<Oh, hush, you absolute _drama queen._ You're lucky the whole mask thing doesn't _do_ it for me, though. _Anyway,_ back to my _point,_ you leave Billy _alone_ about the whole villainy thing until he's at _least_ old enough to vote. >”

Loki-in-the-vision glared, livid, and then whirled on one heel. “<Fine, then. I won't speak to the boy of it today. I'll see you both this evening.>”

The image dissolved in smoke.

Billy straightened sharply, falling out of his trance with a jolt.

Across the coffee table, Simon frowned, looking worried. “You ok, kiddo? What did you see?”

“I...” He shook his head, trying to clear it. _Is Teddy right? Does Loki actually want to pull some kind of Darth Vader thing on me?_ “Nothing. I didn't see anything.”


	5. Crossfire Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after "Divination Lessons," we get a chance to see what training with Loki is like. Set after [Kiddo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/541117).

Whenever Loki felt like giving Billy a lesson in combat magic, they went somewhere fairly remote, where the shouting and occasional explosions wouldn't attract too much attention. Today's location of choice was the Scottish moors, which Billy found that he really liked, even though they were a little bleak sometimes. Maybe, he thought, it was because they were so different from New York. The hills were shaped differently, and the plants weren't ones that he recognized. It was nice.

The sky was gray and overcast as Loki cast a wide circle around them. When he was finished walling off their training area, he whirled on his heel (a gesture he was very fond of) and stood facing Billy, his hands behind his back. “You meditated this morning?”

Billy nodded.

“Good, then I don't have to worry about you being properly contained. We're starting crossfire training today, and you need to be able to keep a clear head.”

Billy nodded again, and then paused. “What _is_ crossfire training?”

“It's exactly what it sounds like.” Loki rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. “So far you have only practiced using defensive magic against a single opponent. As an active combatant you need to be adept at facing multiple attackers, especially when they're all doing different things.”

“Oh, ok. Is someone else coming, then? To help you?”

“Hardly necessary. I think I'm _quite_ capable of providing you with decent crossfire training by myself.” And then, abruptly, there were two Lokis, standing side by side in the heather.

Billy blinked hard. “ _Oh._ I'd forgotten you could do that. I've never _seen_ you do that before.”

“It's not something you'll see much again, either. This is a solid copy; normally anything stronger than an illusion is a waste.” The second Loki moved around to Billy's left and drew a knife. “I'm going to attack you now, young warlock. We will begin with basic physical combat.”

“You're...that's a _knife._ Is that _sharp?_ ” Loki had attacked him in combat training before, but only with little batons the _size_ of knives.

“Of course it is. Without true danger there's no impetus to excel. Now. Defend yourself, Billy Kaplan!”

Abruptly Loki dove at him. Startled, Billy dodged—left, and almost onto the second Loki's knife, but he realized at the last moment and threw up a shield. Then he had to spring into the air to avoid another blade coming at his thigh. “Hey, no fair!”

“In a true battle, Billy Kaplan, all is fair. Your foes respect your prowess enough to show you no mercy—do not insult them by offering your own!” Loki was snarling. Billy felt his heart jump in his chest. “Don't just dodge, strike _back!_ You are a sorceror of great might! Let your foes feel the lash of your power!”

The next few minutes were a blur. A third Loki appeared, and then a fourth. Then he/they dropped the purely physical offense and started using magic as well. Billy dodged frantically, weaving in and out between Lokis and striking when he could.

Suddenly he was grabbed from behind, and he felt the unexpected press of _breasts_ against his back. “If you find yourself battling Amora,” said a voice that was clearly female while somehow still being Loki's, “she will seize you. Her most powerful spells are based on touch—and on the target's desire. As you have no interest in women, they won't affect you, and this will confuse and anger her. Use it to your advantage.”

Billy slid a foot back, grabbed the arms around him, and threw the female Loki over one hip in a move that he was pretty sure Iron Fist would have been proud of. Before he could straighten fully, though, he had to dodge a blast of scorching heat, followed by a wave of ice.

“The Mandarin has many powers at his disposal—fewer since I robbed him, but he is still a formidable foe.”

He flipped to avoid what appeared to be a glob of black glue fired at his feet.

“Venom thinks like a spider. He will immobilize and _eat._ Do not let him close the gap, young warlock—his teeth are as sharp as my knives and twice as cruel.”

All four Lokis converged on him. He jumped upward.

“Dr. Doom will attack from all sides, using his Doombots. Aim for the hands if you wish to determine the real Doom; the Doombots tend to spark at the knuckle joints when damaged. Doom will _also_ try to seduce you. His methods are different from Amora's. Don't let him near you.”

Billy froze. “Wait, _what?_ He'll try to _what?_ _Why?_ ”

Three Lokis shimmered and disappeared, and the one that remained rolled his eyes. “For any number of reasons. To damage your team. To anger the adult Avengers. To anger _me_ and needle Bobby. Because he respects users of magic in a way that he does not respect others. Because you are a person of great power and beauty, and he covets both.”

“Power and _what?_ ” A hot flush had begun to creep up Billy's face.

“By the _Norns,_ Billy Kaplan, hasn't anyone told you that before?”

“Well, Teddy, but—”

“ _Listen_ to him. He's an artist. He has a fine eye.” Loki was gesturing broadly with the knife he still held. “My _point,_ young warlock, is that he would see you as a fine trophy, and do you great injury and ill as a consequence. He would crush your mind, put you in a uniform, and keep you to sit beside his throne like a performing dog. No matter what else you may think of me, I hope you don't think that I'd want _that._ ”

Billy was pretty sure that he was focusing on the wrong part of this. “ _You_ really think I have...great _beauty?_ ”

“Anyone would, boy. Don't be a fool. Not that you interest me _personally,_ of course; I could no more be attracted to you than to my own sons.” Loki paused, gazing contemplatively at Billy. “Actually, if I were to need to subvert any one of the Young Avengers, I would most likely try for your young man. I've always liked Skrulls, and he _is_ fairly attractive.”

“I, you, _what?_ You'd—no. Ok, no, you did _not_ just say that you think my boyfriend is hot. I mean, he _is,_ but—”

Something hit him in the back with a painful electric _zap._ “And while you were distracted with banter and innuendo, young warlock, you gave Electro a chance to strike. Let's hope for your sake that you never encounter Wolverine's son, he would have you on the ground within moments. We return to training.”

Having completed that disturbing diversion, they continued on with specific defenses. Loki talked continuously now as they fought; Billy had noticed that he seemed to be able to talk continuously in _every_ situation.

Then he dodged a projectile that looked suspiciously like a round shield. “ _Hey,_ when am I supposed to be fighting Cap? He's a _good_ guy!”

“ _Think,_ young warlock. Your _lover_ is a Skrull. You may at some point find yourself needing to defend yourself against Captain America's fighting style. The technique is also applicable when fighting Taskmaster, who is _astoundingly_ dangerous.”

 _Dodge._ “What about _that?_ That was a _repulsor_ blast! Why are you teaching me to fight the Avengers?” _Is this where I get the Darth Vader speech?_

“Every ally is potentially an enemy, Billy Kaplan, especially in this world of mimics and psychics. If you do not prepare to battle Iron Man, what will you do when you find him controlled by the Purple Man? If you cannot counteract Black Widow's tactics, how will you face a Skrull disguised as her? Complacency is death. Complete trust is _suicide._ ”

“If that's true, then why not teach me to fight _you?_ ”

The extra Lokis disappeared again, leaving only the one, who stared at Billy for a long moment before saying, “Very well then. You want to know how to fight me?”

Billy nodded, shaking.

“Then _find_ me.”

And then there wasn't one Loki—there were hundreds.

They shimmered into place all around him, laughing. He tried to focus on the one who'd been speaking, but lost track of him almost immediately.

 _This_ was what Loki was famous for, and what Billy had _really_ never seen, and suddenly he knew why Loki was so formidable. The crowd that surrounded him was not a crowd of copies of his irritable but oddly affectionate teacher, but someone else, a cackling, wide-eyed madman with a smile full of teeth. They circled around him, not striking but jabbing in a way that made him dance and then spring into the air again, covering his head. _I have to stop them. I have to make them go_ away. _If...if I can make him stop using magic..._

One of the Lokis grabbed his ankle and _threw_ him across the moors.

Panicking, Billy lost all vestiges of the spellcasting techniques that Loki had drilled into his head and reverted to the original self-help formulas he'd started doing magic with. _I_ can _make him stop doing magic. I_ will _make him stop doing magic. I_ am _making him stop doing magic._ The spell spread out from him in an explosive ripple of blue light.

The duplicates winked out of existence as suddenly as they'd appeared, and farther out the faint green shimmer of the circle ward disappeared. Only one Loki remained on the field, swaying on his feet and looking shocked, all color gone from his face.

Billy landed, expecting Loki to say something, some scolding or backhanded compliment. When his teacher said nothing he frowned. “Loki? Are you all right?”

At the sound of Billy's voice Loki shook himself. His pupils, Billy saw, had contracted tightly; now they expanded suddenly to a normal size for the level of light. “That...that was very good, Billy Kaplan. That was worthily done.”

Straight praise was _not_ what he'd expected. “Um...thank you.”

“But your magic stinks of chaos and Ginnungagap, and if you _ever_ do that to me again during a lesson you will _long_ to be a frog.” Loki shook himself again. No, scratch that, he was _shaking._ “That will be all for now. We should return to the house.”

Billy dug his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and was startled to see that it was almost three in the afternoon. They'd been training for hours. “Yeah. It's past lunch time.”

When they got back to the house, Simon emerged from his studio, took one look at Loki, let out a startled shriek, and hustled him into the living room before going to make tea. Billy sat down across from Loki in the chair that he usually occupied and took out his phone again, deciding that it was _clearly_ time to text Teddy.

He tried to figure out a way to express his feelings about the day's training succinctly, found that he had no way of compressing them properly, and instead settled on something he knew would be funny. [Loki thinks you're hot]

After a moment Teddy's message came back. [...wat]

[that's what he said. he may have been messing with me, though. we were doing combat stuff, and sometimes he says stuff to throw me off-balance.]

[You...you were doing combat training and he said I was *hot*]

[well, no, he said you were attractive and that if he was going to try to subvert someone on our team he'd pick you]

[what]

Simon had returned with the tea by now, and was curled up on the couch next to Loki, looking worried. Billy realized suddenly that he was being spoken to, nodded in response, and relayed the requested message. [also Simon says he has a “shopping bug” and wants to go to nyc and would you like to have dinner with us and get some new clothes]

[lemme ask Ms Potts]

[Simon says to tell her he says, and I quote, “hiii spice girl I have a new painting to show you”]

[im not repeating that. at least not the spice girl part]

[thats ok]

[I dont have money you know]

[actually Simon is saying now that if you think youre paying for anything then you have another think coming because he wants to put you in outfits and buy you new earrings because he doesnt get to buy them for himself anymore]

[he wants to buy me clothes? me?]

When Billy passed this question on, it wasn't Simon but Loki who answered. “I don't let Bobby dress me anymore without some fairly specific ground rules.” He took a long sip of his tea. His eyes gleamed with amusement. “ _I_ suggested that we get your young man some new clothes. He needs something more flattering than t-shirts and jeans.”

 _That_ was the Loki he was used to. Billy relaxed a little bit, and then considered the implications of that last remark and turned pink. [ok no *Loki* wants to buy you clothes. because he thinks you're hot.]

[ok this is just getting weird]

[so are you coming shopping with us?]

[yeah sure ok. I need new shoes anyway and I miss you]


	6. Shopping With Supervillains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of "Crossfire Training," Loki and Simon/Discord decide, inexplicably, to take Billy and Teddy shopping. Set after [Kiddo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/541117).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mild warning: this scene contains a brief episode of homphobia and homophobic language. I don't condone that shit, though, so there's a smackdown immediately following. ^_^

It was still hard to get used to being _driven_ places. Teddy had lived in New York City all his life, and while sure, he'd taken the occasional taxi with his mother, most of the time he'd traveled by bus or subway. Even when they'd gone on vacation, they'd flown, or taken the train—his mother had never learned to drive, which had seemed perfectly reasonable to him, a born New Yorker, even though _now_ he knew there had been another reason.

 _Had._ It still hurt. There _had_ been another reason. Not that there _was still._

The car was stopping.

“We're here, champ.” That was Happy (as in Happy _Hogan_ , three-time American heavyweight champion, only modern boxer ever thought capable of lasting more than one round against Battlin' Jack Murdock in his prime), looking over at him from the driver's seat and smiling. “Midtown Comics and romance await.”

Teddy blushed and started fumbling at his seatbelt. “Thanks, Mr. Hogan—Happy, Happy, I remember,” off Happy's half-scolding look.

“My pleasure.” Happy (as in Happy _Hogan_ , who was teaching _him_ how to _box_ ) patted him on the shoulder. “Call me when you need to be picked up, ok? You have my cell phone number.”

“Ok, Happy. Thank you.” He grabbed his backpack and scrambled out of the car.

“Hey!” came the shout from somewhere in front of him and to the left. “Hey, Teddy, over here!”

He turned, his momentary depression melting away at the sound of his boyfriend's voice, Billy who he hadn't seen in almost a _week_ and then only for three ( _really awesome_ ) hours. And _there_ Billy was, waving energetically at him. He was standing with two older men who Teddy didn't initially recognize—one had multi-colored hair and bright green sneakers and a shirt with a Georgia O'Keefe painting on it, and the other had a short ponytail and a deep green button-down and was really very good looking and _oh shit it's Loki. Was I just checking Loki out? Did I just check Loki out in front of my_ boyfriend? _Did I just check Loki out in front of_ his _boyfriend? And since when do I check people out anyway? I mean, sometimes I_ look _, but..._

The last time he'd seen Loki, the supervillain had been wearing full armor, since he apparently felt that intimidation was the best way to go when getting a straying student in line. Which, to be fair, wasn't a _terrible_ idea, especially when the student to be intimidated happened to be wearing nothing except his boyfriend's bathrobe and trying to enjoy his very first afterglow.

Man, even when he _wasn't_ being overtly evil Loki was kind of an asshole. Although Teddy supposed that he should maybe try _not_ to focus on that when said asshole was presumably also the money for this shopping expedition.

He ran the last few steps, enjoying the _thud_ of Billy running into him, enjoying even more the smell of Billy's hair, suddenly on eye level with him. “Hey, Bee. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Billy said into the side of his neck. Teddy could feel him smiling. “Loki almost threw me halfway across Scotland this morning, and I remember thinking, you know, it would be really nice if my boyfriend was here to kick his ass. But you weren't there.”

“So what did you do, since I wasn't there to do any ass-kicking?”

“I kicked it myself. I'm getting better at that, you know.”

They pulled apart, smiling at each other. It was impossible not to be happy when Billy was here, looking flushed and cheerful and glad to see him.

“Why don't you introduce us, kiddo? I don't think we've ever properly met.”

 _That_ voice was familiar too, from the news and one brief, frightening fight a few months ago. Teddy went tense hearing it, but Billy still seemed completely relaxed as he shifted back and gestured to the man with the multi-colored hair. “Simon, this is my boyfriend, Teddy. Teddy, this is Professor Simon Clark.”

 _Who is also a_ supervillain, _oh my god, Billy, how am I supposed to be comfortable with this?_ But right now Simon didn't _look_ like Discord, he looked like any number of guys Teddy had seen in the Village. The pointed ears were a little weird, but it's not like there weren't other mutants living in the city. _Discord's a mutant, right? Unless that's what continued...exposure to Loki does to a person. Not thinking about what kind of exposure that might be._ He focused on not showing how nervous he was. “It's nice to meet you, Professor Clark.”

“Oh, no, no, it's Simon.” Simon flashed a white smile at him. “Any friend of Billy's is a friend of mine. Only my undergrads call me Professor.” His eyes _twinkled._ Teddy tried to control the urge to connect this with the pointed ears, failed, pictured Simon as an extremely cheerful elf, and actually had to stifle a laugh. “And I think you've already met Loki.”

 _Right. Loki._ The bottom dropped out of his stomach. “I, ah, well, we, um—”

“We've met.” Loki didn't exactly smile, but he did look amused. “It's good to see you again, young man. Come, if you're going to allow Bobby to haul you through every clothing store in Manhattan then you may wish to fortify yourself first. The comic store awaits.”

Once they'd actually gotten into Midtown, it was a little easier to relax. Simon was hailed almost immediately inside the door and split off to chat with someone who Teddy recognized after a moment as an artist he'd actually gotten autographs from once or twice, and Loki went to look at, of all things, manga. That left Billy and Teddy free to browse the new releases and stand close together, ridiculously pleased to see each other.

Once they were out of earshot, Teddy leaned over and muttered, “He actually threw you across Scotland?”

“Yeah. We were doing a combat training thing. Oh, hey, new Spiderman comic.” Billy snagged it and frowned at the cover. “Spiderman comics have somehow lost their thrill now that I've actually met him.”

“I know that feeling. I'm still trying to get used to calling myself Hulkling when I live down the hall from the original-accept-no-substitutes. Has he tried to Darth Vader you yet?”

Billy shifted uncomfortably. “Not yet. I think he _wanted_ to earlier, though. Things got a little weird. He's...kind of a mess.”

“Not really surprising. You know. With the whole supervillain thing.”

“He's actually a really good teacher, though. Even if he's grouchy all the time. And Simon is _really_ nice.”

“If you say so.” Teddy hugged him sideways and then frowned at the shelf in front of him. “Hey, is that the new Frank Miller thing? I always _want_ to give him another shot, but...”

“Couldn't be worse than _Holy Terror_ , right? Or...” Billy looked around. “New Transformers comic is out.”

“Because of course the Skrull's into Transformers.” Teddy took in a hissing breath and did his best Pam-from- _Archer_ voice. “Racist.”

Billy snorted a laugh. “Oh, _shut_ up, I've _seen_ the ten Hot Rod action figures you have over your bed.”

“Hey, three of those aren't Hot Rod, they're Roddimus Prime. And one is Hotshot, but technically they're the same guy in that continuity.”

“And this is proving that you're not into Transformers how, exactly?”

“I'll admit that I'm into Transformers when you come out of the Jem-and-the-Holograms closet.”

“I don't—” Under the pressure of Teddy's smirk Billy wilted slightly, and then laughed again. “Ok, ok, I love Jem. Actually, is that out this week? The new IDW comic is really pretty good.”

“Not sure. We can check.”

By the time Simon wandered over, they'd accumulated a small stack of singles and briefly debated whether or not it would be wise to go look at trades (conclusion being no, neither of them wanted to carry a bag of trades all day). Simon was carrying a piece of Bristol board with what looked like a diagram on it and a paper covered in names, phone numbers, and scribbled notes. “Hey, kids. You ready?”

Billy waved the stack of comics in his hand. “I think we're all set now. Hey!”

Simon had taken the stack. “ _I'm_ paying. Especially because Luke is _finally_ insisting that we get the complete _Evangelion_ manga, so it'd make me feel better to oh my god is this a Jem and the Holograms comic? I _love_ Jem!”

As he headed for the counter, singing quietly to himself, Billy leaned in and whispered. “I'm not _that_ camp, am I?”

“I heard that!”

“Shit. Sorry, Simon.”

“Don't worry about it. I work _hard_ to maintain my sassy gay man image.” Loki, who had been approaching from the other side with his inxplicable stack of manga, let out a long-suffering sigh at this, and Simon flipped him off. “Don't make that noise, you love it.”

From Midtown Comics they proceeded immediately to first one, then another, then a whole string of clothing stores, and with each store the situation got less and less weird, until it didn't feel like hanging out with a supervillain as much as like the one time he'd gotten carted around town by Greg Norris' strangely nice older sister, who'd told him very frankly that he ought to wear more green and that her brother was an asshole. Not that he'd _listened_ to her, of course, or that Simon was in _any way_ like a girl—in his own flamboyant, excitable, _Queer Eye for the Straight Guy_ kind of way he was almost _aggressively_ masculine. Teddy didn't think he'd _ever_ seen people as comfortable in their own skins as Simon and Loki seemed to be, except maybe Pepper Potts, who was _Pepper_ , so she was in a category by herself.

It was a problem. He didn't _want_ to be comfortable with Simon and Loki. They were, when you got down to it, the enemy. They were criminals. They hurt people. But that was hard to focus on when Loki was eating an ice cream cone and talking languidly about how much he'd enjoyed _FLCL_ , when Simon was holding up a pair of green enameled hoop earrings and saying, “I think these would set off his eyes very nicely, don't you, kiddo?”

Billy nodded enthusiastically, and Teddy could feel himself blushing. As his boyfriend moved off to look at something in a case across the store, he finally managed to say, “Simon?”

Simon smiled at him, continuing to flip through the earrings on the counter stand. “Yes?”

“Why...what's the point of all this?”

“All what? The shopping trip?”

Teddy nodded nervously. “Yeah. Why take us shopping? Why take _me_ shopping?”

Simon turned to look at him, contemplatively, and then shrugged. “Because I have more money than I really know what to do with—obtained through _legal_ channels, mind you—and I like to play dress-up. Besides, I've been young before. I know how much it sucks to have to spend so much time apart from the person you love. You two deserved some time together, and I'd hardly be a responsible teacher if I let Billy go teleporting all over the planet unchaperoned.” He paused. “And confidentially, Teddy, your boyfriend has _no_ taste for flattering clothing. This trip is to get _him_ dressed up as much as it's for you.”

“Those aren't really _reasons_ , though.”

“Well, no, they're not. So here you go: I felt like it. What other reason should I have to do anything?”

Simon was still smiling, and his tone was light, but for a moment Teddy felt the heavy truth behind those words, and he had to focus hard to keep from shuddering. “There are other reasons to do things. Truth. Justice. Because they're the right thing to do.”

“Hon, I lost my faith in justice when I found out that the guy who cracked two of my ribs in tenth grade for blushing in the locker room was going to law school. The only really worthwhile motives in the world are art, love, and pleasure.” Simon moved on to the next jewelry fixture, 'hmm'-ing thoughtfully at a selection of tongue studs. “It pleases me to see Billy happy, and to spend my money on him. _You_ make him happy, _and_ you're an artist yourself, and so it pleases me to spend my money on you. And anyway I haven't been able to buy _myself_ any earrings in _years,_ and both of my teaching assistants wear _completely_ different jewelry, so I can't get them any.”

Right, that. He'd wanted to ask about that, and it seemed like as good an opportunity as any to change the subject and get some time to think about what he'd just been told. “Yeah, why _can't_ you buy earrings for yourself? You have, like, seven piercings in each ear.”

“Ten, actually.” Simon flicked one with a finger. “Look close, though. They're actually _part_ of me now. Part of my body, that is, grown into the skin. I can't take these out. Not that I really _want_ to, I'm very partial to silver.”

Teddy was fascinated in spite of himself. “Wow. How'd that happen?”

The older man shrugged. “Magic changes those who weren't born to it. Some of my changes were physical.” That made sense, in a weird way, and then Teddy felt a brush on his cheek as Simon held the earrings up next to his face. “Definitely green. It's a good color for you.”

When they left that store, Simon diverted to talk to a man drawing caricatures on the street corner, and Loki went with him. The two stood together by the artist's chair, Loki's arm around Simon's waist, so close that when a cloud briefly passed over the sun they only had one silhouette. When the cloud had gone they were leaning together, heads close, laughing, and as Loki bent down for a kiss Teddy felt a sudden pang of envy. Why did _they_ get to be so happy, when all the _heroes_ Teddy knew seemed to do so badly at romance?

“It's kinda weird, isn't it?” Billy was watching them too. “They're like...I don't know, like Gomez and Morticia. They do stuff like this and it's _super_ romantic, and then one of them just says something really creepy and it gets weird.”

Teddy suppressed a laugh at the insane image. “I always thought Gomez and Morticia were great. Like, they're just so in love and they don't give a shit who knows.”

“Yeah.” Billy sighed wistfully.

Teddy glanced over at his boyfriend, and it might have been the sunlight on his hair, or the sugar high from the ice cream earlier, or an excess of nervous energy, or maybe it was just the particularly powerful burst of full-on no-holds-barred _Princess Bride_ 'twue wuv' he was feeling at the moment, but, “Hey, Billy, c'mere.”

“Sure, Tee, what— _whoa!_ ”

Seized by whatever urge it was, Teddy wrapped an arm around Billy's waist, grabbed his other hand, and swept him into an absurd romance-novel-cover dip. _“Cara mia.”_

Billy stared at him in shock for all of two seconds and then beamed and tossed his head back. _“Mon cher.”_

 _Because I am in_ love _and have the best boyfriend on the_ planet. Teddy glanced over at where a couple of middle school girls were staring at them and declared, ridiculously, “I would die for him. I would kill for him! Either way, what bliss?” before kissing him. The air around them filled with a warm blue glow.

The girls giggled, delighted, and for a long moment Teddy felt nothing but the sensation of being stupidly, massively, eye-crossingly in love.

Then, of course, someone else passing them muttered, “Fags,” under their breath and spat on the sidewalk and the moment came crashing down. They stumbled apart, blushing hotly and staring at their own feet.

“Excuse me, what was that?” Simon had come back over, but he wasn't talking to them—he was talking to the man who'd spoken. “I _might_ have been mishearing things, but I _thought_ I just heard something _unforgiveably_ rude.”

The man who'd spoken drew himself up to his full height, a couple of inches taller than Simon, and sneered. “Just because I gotta deal with fags and muties _living_ in the city doesn't mean I wanna see you freaks queering up the street.” He looked Simon up and down. “What are _you_ supposed to be, anyway, Spock? Their _mentor?_ You _teach_ 'em to fag it up where decent people can see?”

People were staring. Simon smiled sunnily. “Ooh, I see we've met the last bastion of morality in New York City. I'm so _honored._ ” He seized the man's hand, shaking it energetically. The man looked horrified and tried to pull away. “ _Tell_ me, Mr. Class of...oh, and you went to _my_ school, too, just _look_ at that class ring. So you enjoy picking on people because they were born a particular way?”

The man finally managed to get his hand free of Simon's grip. He rubbed it on his jeans as if he'd just touched something awful. “Born _what_ way? None of that shit's _natural._ ”

“I think my younger self would have something to say about that, possibly with reference to how a young boy's heart leaps at the sight of Jareth the Goblin King. And as for mutants, I'd _really_ like to know when the old prep stopped covering genetics in biology.” Simon sidled closer and slung his arm around the man's shoulders. “ _I_ don't especially like knowing that I share a city with ill-tempered, uncultured bigots. I mean, I know you've got the _right_ to be like that, it's a free country, but do you have to do it in _public?_ ” He paused, clearly for dramatic effect and to entertain the gathering crowd. “I mean, it's just not _natural._ ”

The man leaped away. “Get your hands off me, freak! I'll call the cops!”

“You _will,_ won't you?” Now Simon looked delighted. “And you'll tell them...what, exactly? You was exercising your freedom to hate by picking on a couple of high schoolers when a concerned citizen decided to intervene? _I_ haven't done anything except step in to defend my nephew and his boyfriend. Have I done anything wrong, folks?” He gestured to the crowd, who shook their heads. A number of the onlookers looked nothing short of _thrilled._ Then he held up a hand, as if just realizing something. “Clearly _someone's_ done something wrong, since I've had to waste time scolding an adult who should know better instead of enjoying my day, but I _don't_ think it's me.”

The man stared at him, mouth working soundlessly, red with rage.

“Now, you have _every right_ to be a bigot, and I don't want to take that away from you.” Simon patted him on the shoulder. “But try not to do it where decent people can see, ok?” He spun on his heel like an actor, still smiling. “Come on, kids, I want to hit a couple more stores, and then I think it's time for dinner.”

The crowd started to applaud.

They left the man still staring after them, and as they met up with Loki, Billy, still blushing furiously, said, “Wow, um, Simon, I mean, you didn't have to do that.”

Simon shook his head. “No, I really think I _did,_ kiddo. Don't ever let anyone make you feel ashamed to be yourself.” Hs eyes were glinting in a way that didn't match his cheery smile. “You don't _want_ to see what _I_ did to the last person who made me feel ashamed to be me.”

Billy laughed, but Teddy thought maybe he _did_ want to see what Simon had done. It would probably tell him a lot about Simon.

“Here, also.” Simon dug something out of his pocket and handed it to Loki. “Got you a present, hot stuff.”

Loki looked at what he'd been handed and chuckled. “You took his wallet. You _do_ know what I enjoy, my beloved.”

“Of course I do. Undermines the point I was making a little, but I live to make you happy.”

Teddy shifted uncomfortably but didn't say anything.

The restaurant they went to for dinner was expensive and exclusive and had the name of a famous chef over the door. Simon made them change at the last store they went to, so that they'd both be dressed appropriately, and when they got to the place he chatted with the head waiter like they'd been friends for years. _Maybe they have,_ Teddy realized. _Simon seems to have a lot of friends in New York._

They got menus with no prices on them, and a stern look from Simon when Teddy started babbling awkwardly about what it would be all right to order. “You get whatever looks good to you. _I'm_ paying.”

“But—”

“No arguments. Consider it a gift for Billy, if it makes you feel better. He's been doing very well in lessons, so he gets a nice dinner with his guy.”

Billy blushed and stared at his plate, and Teddy mumbled an awkward thank-you, and that was the last time anyone mentioned anything about the dinner arrangements. Instead they talked about...weirdly normal things. What Billy had been studying with Loki. Teddy's favorite artists. The new exhibits Simon was interested in seeing in the city. The next Gainax anime, because _Loki was really into anime_ , which was _so weird._

In the middle of the salad course Loki and Simon both froze, lifting their heads like dogs scenting the wind, and then Simon excused himself and hurried out of the restaurant, assuring them that he'd be back very soon. Then Billy had to go to the bathroom, and Teddy was alone at the table with Loki.

He cast about desperately for a topic of conversation and finally hit on, “So, uh. Billy said you like fishing?”

“Very much so.” Loki sipped his wine and smiled slightly. “It's a most enjoyable pasttime. I invented the fishing net, you know. Or rather I invented one style, many ages ago.”

 _That_ was a surprise to hear. “Wow, really? You, um, you must really like fish.”

“Not at all, young man. I _loathe_ fish. Glassy-eyed little cretins. That's why I eat them.”

“Oh.” Not having any _real_ response to that, Teddy took a mouthful of salad and said nothing.

After a moment of awkward silence, Loki set his wine glass down and said, “Teddy Altman.”

Teddy looked up, startled. “Yessir?”

“Your young man,” indicating Billy's empty chair, “has more native intelligence and skill than anyone else I've ever met on this benighted plane. It is a great pleasure to be his teacher.”

And Teddy could _always_ say something about how wonderful Billy was, although he wasn't sure where this was going. “Yeah, he's really something, isn't he?”

“Indeed. I have never met another with such potential for greatness.” Another pause. “And if I ever find him suffering a broken heart, Teddy Altman, I will _know_ the cause, and in all the hells that exist there will not be a single soul that will envy your torments.”

Teddy stared at him.

He raised his wine glass. “Are we both clear on this point, Teddy Altman?”

 _...is this the shotgun talk? Am I getting the “what are your intentions” talk from_ Loki? _I guess it's overdue, given that neither of the Kaplans actually felt the need. This may be the weirdest day of my_ entire life. “Entirely clear, sir. I'm not planning on breaking his heart any time soon. Or ever, actually.”

“That is good to hear, young man. I will expect you to hold to your word on that.”

Feeling bolder, Teddy nodded and forced himself to meet Loki's eyes. “Of course. I'm always going to be there to protect him.”

Loki watched him for a long moment and then raised his wine glass as if to toast. “I will drink to that, Teddy Altman. To protecting what we love.”

Teddy raised his glass of soda in response. “To protecting what we love.” _Even if that means protecting Billy from you._

After dinner Simon and Loki dropped them off outside Stark Tower, sent their own bags home with magic, and then disappeared, saying that they were going to go dancing and they'd be back to pick Billy up later. Teddy and Billy stumbled into the express elevator together, laughing, and barely managed to say hello to Pepper before heading back to Teddy's room to, they said, look at their new comics.

Later, when they were lying in bed side by side, _actually_ reading their new comics, Teddy switched on the radio and felt a sick lurch in his stomach when one of the newsreaders mentioned a fight at a nightclub near where they'd had dinner. It had happened _while_ they were at dinner. When Simon had run off for a few minutes. Discord hadn't been spotted at the scene, but Church of Loki graffiti had been spraypainted on the club walls when the police had shown up to break up the crowd.

Billy didn't seem to notice, or if he did notice, it didn't bother him.

Teddy stared down at the top of his boyfriend's head and bit his lip. _Billy, what are you getting yourself into?_


	7. The Roles We Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after [Kiddo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/541117). Perhaps a week after "Crossfire Training" and "Shopping With Supervillains," Teddy gets an eyeful of Billy's semi-supervillain disguise over Skype, and it gets him _all kinds of going_.
> 
> NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr: "EXTREMELY NSFW. Seriously, this here snippet is about two-thirds porn, and it is porn of the two-dudes variety, so you better be prepared for that when you hit the jump.
> 
> Continuity-wise, this takes place perhaps a week after “Crossfire Training” and contains ROLEPLAY, off-warranty use of magical powers for sexual purposes, and EXPLICIT SEX (between seventeen-year-olds—that’s above the age of consent where I am, but I don’t know how you feel on the matter). It also contains references to Billy’s [Warlock costume](http://dangerouscommiesubversive.tumblr.com/post/39532087626/warlock-apprentice-of-loki-discord-says-i)—Warlock, if you recall from Kiddo, is Billy’s sort of semi-villainous identity, the one he uses when he’s out training with Loki."

When Billy and Loki returned from their “field trip” to Alfheim it was nearly three in the morning. Loki was looking fairly pleased with himself, having brought home a selection of steaks—as a result of getting the steaks, of course, he was also drenched in dragon blood, but it didn't seem to bother him much. Billy, however, was entirely unscathed and dancing impatiently on his toes. Teddy was going to be on _any minute now._

Loki glanced over, saw him hopping from foot to foot, and smirked. “Well fought, Warlock. Go bother your young man.”

“OkthankyouLokigoodnight.” He rushed upstairs.

The Skype alert was already dinging when he got to his room, and he answered the call without even bothering to change into normal clothing. When the video chat popped up he waved. “Hey, Teddy!”

“Hey, B.” There on the video feed was Teddy, in his room at Stark Tower, at the computer. “I was just...”

He trailed off. Billy blinked. “Babe? Are you ok?”

“What...what are you wearing?” Teddy's voice was inexplicably rough.

“Oh, right, this.” Billy glanced down at himself. “It's my Warlock costume. Simon made it for me. It's sort of awful, I know.”

“You...I...you look...”

“Stupid, I know—”

_“...evil.”_

_Not_ what he'd been expecting to hear. “ _Evil?_ ” He squinted at the screen, wrinkling his nose under his mask. Teddy was staring at him in a way that he'd only seen a couple of times before, when— “Wait. Teddy, do...do you have some kind of villain kink that you haven't told me about?”

On the video feed he saw Teddy shift in his computer chair, blushing. “Five minutes ago I would've said no. You even _sound_ different.”

“It's the mask, it's got this thing in it—wait, five minutes ago? Well, what about now?”

There was a long pause, and then Teddy said, hoarsely, “That outfit looks _good_ on you.”

Billy was pretty sure he was going pink. It was probably visible on the upper half of his face, where the mask didn't go. “So is that a yes, I think seeing my boyfriend dressed like a supervillain is hot?” He sat down, finally, deciding for the moment that he _wasn't_ going to change, though he did at least pull his hood back.

“I want to see you fight Captain America in that outfit. Or Johnny Storm.”

“Well, now you're just _trying_ to get me excited. ...have you _thought_ about this?”

Teddy blushed harder. “I...might have had a dream about something like it.”

 _“Really.”_ Billy laughed—just a little, but the echo chamber in his mask turned it into a wicked chuckle, and he saw Teddy shudder. Which was...yeah. “Well, why don't you tell me about that?”

Ten minutes later the silence of the second-floor hallway was broken by his pounding on the door to Loki's room. Loki's irritated voice from within the closed room said, “ _What,_ Billy Kaplan? Is the house afire? Are we under attack? I am _busy._ ”

“LokicanIgovisitTeddyIpromiseI'llbebacksoon?”

He heard a 'hmph' noise, and then Loki replied with, “ _Go._ Enjoy yourself. Be back by morning or—”

“OkfrogIgotitthanksnight.” Billy took a deep breath and vanished.

In the darkened house, a suspended pause, and then, “Uh...Loki, is it just me or did he still have his mask on? Did he just leave for his booty call dressed as a junior supervillain?”

“As far as I was able to determine, yes.”

“Well. _That's_ new.”

“Indeed. And on a related matter, weren't you _doing_ something?”

“Bossy.”

“You _like_ that I'm bossy.”

“True, true.”

\--

Billy materialized in the air outside Teddy's window and pulled his hood up. It was only quarter past ten in New York City, but he didn't particularly feel like attracting attention. Taking a deep breath, he floated down and perched on the windowsill, tapping at the glass with one finger. Inside the room he saw Teddy jump from his chair, and then a moment later the window was wrenched open.

He stayed on the windowsill, one hand out to steady himself, the other hand lifted slightly. “Teddy.”

Teddy stared at him breathlessly for a moment before saying, “Billy.”

He wasn't wearing too much, and Billy couldn't quite help letting his eyes travel down from his boyfriend's face and along the smooth lines of his torso, down to the increasingly obvious tent in his pajama pants. That was a hell of a thing to see—somebody getting this turned on by _him? Really?—_ and he laughed again, a little nervously. The laugh again became ghostly and evil in his mask's echo chamber, and Teddy swallowed hard.

“So let me get this straight,” Billy said softly. “You fell asleep reading fanfiction and had some interesting dreams, and now you want me to talk like a supervillain and tie you up.”

Teddy's voice came out harsh. _“Yes.”_

“I can do that.” He shifted in his crouch on the windowsill; his costume was a little...restricting now. “Let me know if you need me to stop, ok? Turn purple or something, if you can't talk.”

“If I can't—” Teddy twitched. It looked like a good twitch. “Ok. But blue. Blue is easier. The safe word is I turn blue.”

 _Oh god we've only had sex twice and now we're doing something with a_ safe word. _Oh god._ “What...what do you want me to say? How do we start?”

“Um. I'm not sure. By the time it gets this far in my head I'm usually not too coherent. Improvise, I guess? No offense, but you know a _lot_ more than me about how supervillains talk.”

“Ok. Just...give me a second.” He shut his eyes.

When he focused, it was surprisingly easy to get into character, or whatever he was doing. Sure, he'd always wanted to be a _hero,_ but _everyone_ who got bullied a lot had that little _I could show them_ voice in the back of their head. He could be evil if he wanted to be. If _Teddy_ wanted him to be. He took a deep breath and thought of every villain he'd ever seen or fought or ( _gulp_ ) met personally. He thought about what Teddy knew, Teddy's favorite heroes and their enemies, Teddy's dream.

“Teddy.”

“Yes?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do. I trust you.”

“Good.”

Then he grabbed the front of his boyfriend's shirt in both hands and toppled backwards out of the open window.

Teddy shouted in alarm and grabbed his shoulders, and Billy grinned behind his mask. When he spoke, his voice came out with hints of Loki and Dr. Doom and Magneto, plus a little extra kick of the actual “Warlock Voice” that he used when he had to talk to Loki on outings in costume. “Hulkling. I finally got you alone.”

\--

At the sound of a shout from down the hall Tony Stark jumped to his feet, startled. “Jarvis, what was that?”

_“Mr. Altman has fallen out of the window, sir.”_

“What? _Shit._ Gear up the Mark IX Air Rescue Drone.”

_“Unnecessary, sir. From my surveillance it appears to have been deliberate. He is apparently entertaining company.”_

Tony frowned. “What the hell kind of... _oh._ Loki Junior dropped by for a conjugal.”

“Don't call him that, Tony.” Bruce stretched his legs into the seat Tony had vacated, not looking up from his tablet.

“Why not—hey! My spot! Mo~om,” to Pepper as she entered the room with a cup of ice cream in hand, “Bruce took my spot!”

“Bruce, give Tony his spot back.” She paused, frowning. “Who shouted just now? Was it you?”

“Nope. Your young ward is having kinky sex with a potential supervillain down the hall.”

 _“Tony._ One, Teddy's not my 'young ward,' and two, Billy's not a potential supervillain. He's very sweet.” She sat.

Bruce hadn't moved his feet, so Tony perched on the arm of Pepper's chair. “The kid lives in Loki's pocket and asks his boyfriend for relationship advice, Pep. Can't get much more potentially-supervillainous than that. You should see how much he freaks out Dr. Strange. And look at the whole situation. Deserving young man loses his family under tragic circumstances, gets taken in by a mysterious rich benefactor? It's just like _Annie_ except we all have really good hair and nobody sings.”

\--

They plummeted towards the ground with what felt like increasing speed, but Billy knew what he was doing—he slowed their descent with magic, stopping it completely when they were at what he thought was probably the fiftieth floor. His cloak whipped in the wind around him, and above him Teddy had started to Hulk out reflexively, which was probably hotter than it should have been. But hot was what they were going for, right? So he ran with it, exhaling long and slow as he righted them. “ _That's_ what I wanted to see.”

“I, what—you pulled me out the window! Why?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you squirm.” There was a ledge on the building here, and he flew them toward it until he had Teddy penned in, back against the wall, seizing his wrists and trapping them by his sides. “It's so rare that I can catch a hero alone and...” he looked Teddy up and down slowly, “unguarded.”

He could get used to talking like this, if it was always going to have this kind of effect. Teddy's eyes had gone dark, and he bit his lower lip in a way that was _unspeakably_ distracting. If the mask hadn't been in the way Billy would have kissed him, but then, too, if they'd started kissing he wouldn't have gotten to hear Teddy say, breathlessly, “I think you got more than you were looking for,” as he swelled fully into Skrull form.

“Oh, I think I got _exactly_ what I was looking for.” Billy moved closer, nudging Teddy's legs apart with one knee and pressing forward. Teddy groaned quietly, grinding against him, and he laughed. “I always wanted to have you at my mercy like this.”

“I'll never...never...”

“Never what? You know, I think I could probably get you to do _anything_ I wanted right now. I could get you to, say,” he thought about it, “break into the Stark R &D labs for me. Steal me an arc reactor. You'd steal an arc reactor if I told you to, wouldn't you?”

Teddy bit his lip again and then nodded mutely.

Billy let go of his wrists, but left them shackled to the wall with magic. At this point hovering magically was second nature; it was easy to steady himself as he slid one hand down to cup Teddy's erection where it was pressed against his leg. “Or there's _this._ You're _enjoying_ this. If I _wanted_ to I bet I could get you to suck my cock right here. I bet you'd let me fuck you. You'd _like_ that, wouldn't you?”

When Teddy was green, he blushed a darker green, and right now he almost matched Billy's costume as he struggled weakly against the magic binding him to the wall. Every shift ground his cock against Billy's hand. “I...”

“Yes?” He laughed more, and he could _definitely_ give supervillainy a go if it was always as hot as this was (and involved less of the coming home covered in bruises and soot that he tended to see at Loki's house). “What was that, Hulkling? I didn't hear you.”

“...not out here. I'll do whatever you want, but not out here.”

In response he settled his hands on Teddy's waist and launched them into the air again, shooting up to where Teddy's bedroom window still sat open. They were inside in an instant, and he shut the window behind him with magic, throwing out as he did another spell that covered the walls of the room in a faint, shimmering blue curtain. “That's a soundproofing spell. Nobody can hear you now.”

Teddy's eyes went wide.

_“Babe are you ok?”_

_“I'm fine except that if I get any hornier I will actually die. I'm not freaking out. Is the room actually soundproof?”_

Billy nodded slowly. “Take your shirt off.”

Teddy shrank back to human form and pulled his shirt off over his head with shaking hands, revealing a vast expanse of muscular chest that Billy still had a hard time believing he was allowed to touch. To cover his nerves he pressed forwarding again, herding Teddy backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down hard. “What do you want me to...”

“Lie back.” Without waiting for a response Billy crawled up him, grabbing his wrists and pressing them against the pillows above his head. A whisper of magic had Teddy's arms completely immobilized, and Teddy struggled against the feeling for a moment and moaned. Why hadn't they _done_ this before?

He knelt on the bed between Teddy's legs, lifted off his chest plate, and shrugged off his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. He toed off his boots, and they fell beside the cloak. Leaning forward, he splayed one hand across Teddy's chest. Teddy's skin felt warm through the palm of his glove, and he took a moment to enjoy tracing the edges of defined muscles with his bare fingertips.

Should he say it? It was a really awful cliché.

He couldn't help it.

“I have you now.”

And instead of laughing or making a face or something else that would have ruined the moment completely, Teddy breathed, _“Yes.”_

That tore it. He pulled off his mask and leaned in for a long kiss, his hands fumbling at the zipper at the back of his neck. He had to use magic to peel himself out of his costume the rest of the way, because once he'd gotten his arms free of his sleeves he couldn't help but touch, letting his hands roam over skin that fluctuated between green and pink (because sometimes Teddy had a hard time keeping his shape under control when he was...distracted). He only stopped himself from taking off _Teddy's_ pants with magic because doing it by hand meant doing it with _hands_ , hands on unbelievable _legs_ and sliding _between_ Teddy's legs to grab his _cock,_ which was warm and hard and smooth in his grip, golden curls growing around the base of it as if framing a treasure beyond price.

He reached blind into the drawer in Teddy's bedside table where they'd stashed the lube and condoms, and as he drew them out he almost froze because _he_ hadn't done this before. _They'd_ had sex, yes, but _he'd_ been the one on his back, Teddy over him smiling nervously and _biting his lip_ and _god,_ he was doing it now and looking up at Billy with heavy-lidded eyes, his hands bound above his head with a lash of blue power.

Billy hissed and squeezed lube over his fingers and slid one _in,_ tore open a condom packet with his teeth and rolled it on with his other hand.

Teddy's back arched, his eyes fluttering shut. _“Ah...”_

It sounded like a good _ah._ “Look at me.” He'd dropped character, too lost in the feeling of _heat_ around first the one finger, and then a second, scissoring, stretching. “Teddy. _Look_ at me.”

Teddy forced his eyes open, and their gazes met. “Please.” He was practically whimpering.

“Lift your legs.” He grabbed one muscular thigh with his free hand, forcing Teddy's leg up while he continued to work with the fingers of his other hand. Getting both of Teddy's knees hooked over his shoulders when he only had one hand to work with took a little maneuvering, but he managed it, and then he grabbed his own cock and guided himself to press at Teddy's ass. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes, Billy, _please._ ”

Eyes closing again—“No. Look at me.” He shifted forward, slid in—god, it was so _hot._ “Teddy. I love you.”

“ _Billy,_ I, I...I love...”

Staying still, just staying _in_ was too much; his legs were shaking from the effort of holding back, and finally Billy shifted again and _thrust,_ and then screw in-character, he couldn't talk at _all,_ just rut like an animal. He had to keep one hand out to steady himself, but managed to work the lube-covered one between them to wrap around Teddy's cock. They weren't saying anything, but the sound of their harsh breathing, the occasional moans, seemed so loud that he was glad that he'd soundproofed the room.

He _saw_ Teddy's orgasm coming before it happened, saw his boyfriend stiffen and arch a second before his cock twitched in Billy's hand and he came hot on Billy's stomach. Billy didn't last much longer, thrusting for another moment or so before he saw stars and jerked forward with a moan that cracked embarassingly in the middle.

After a breathless moment Teddy managed, “Here, will you let me, I want to—” which wasn't any kind of complete sentence, but Billy knew what he was getting at and broke the spell that bound his hands. Pulling out felt a little weird, especially with the condom still on, but it was worth it for the feeling of Teddy's arms around him as he rolled it off, tied it, and tossed it in the trash.

He laughed, feeling light-headed. “I, oh my god, I think I could kick Dr. Doom's ass right now. I feel _that_ good. That was awesome.”

“How are you _such a nerd?_ ” Teddy was laughing too. “Oh god you pulled me out the _window._ That was...I did _not_ think that I'd ever find falling at high velocity sexy. We're doing that again, right?”

“Not _right now..._ ”

“ _No,_ not right now, another time.”

“Ok. Your turn to be the bad guy next time.” Billy snuggled into Teddy's arms, yawning. “Although I think I could get used to it if it's always going to be this hot. When I take over the world can I kidnap you to be my evil sex slave?”

“Ok, but only if,” Teddy interrupted himself by kissing Billy lengthily, “only if I can pick my own outfit. No metal bikinis.”

“Never thought Slave Leia was hot. Obviously. Would you be ok with _Rocky Horror?_ Gold hot pants and boots, all the way.”

“Somehow I can't see you in...no, I _can_ see you in a corset, and that's _another_ thing I didn't think I was into before tonight, it's just one learning experience after another.” More kissing. “Do you want ice cream? I want ice cream. Let's go to the kitchen and get ice cream.”

“I don't have any clean pants. I only have my villain pants. Which need washing because I think I precame all over the inside of them, and also I fought a dragon in them earlier.”

“You fought a _dragon?_ ” Teddy blinked down at him, looking startled.

“I helped, at least.” Billy grinned. “Steak for dinner tomorrow.”

“Ok, for that I _bring_ you ice cream. What kind do you want? Mr. Stark keeps something like fifteen kinds in the freezer because Dr. Banner doesn't sleep a ton.”

“Mm...vanilla. With some kind of bits in it.”

“Sounds like us. Vanilla, with bits.”

“I pulled you out the window and then tied you to the bed. I don't think that's vanilla.”

“No, that's the bits.”

“Ice cream sounds _great._ ”

“I love you, Billy.”

“Love you too, Teddy.” Billy leaned out of Teddy's hold to grab the blanket and pull it up over himself, releasing the soundproofing spell as he did. “I'd only ever be a villain for you.”


	8. Shiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki sleeps poorly and wakes up blue, and Bobby is _totally_ ok with that.
> 
> NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snippet is entirely unpublished, not even on Tumblr, and takes place not too long before [Worlds Enough](http://archiveofourown.org/works/551164). It was originally written for my dear friend [Zethsaire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zethsaire/pseuds/Zethsaire), based on [this amazing piece of Loki/Discord art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/689817) that she made for me.
> 
> It is, fair warning, NSFW, and fairly kinky--you may want to skip it if temperature play turns you off.

It had been a restless night, overwarm for March and coming on the heels of a long day and a difficult battle, and as so often happened since the Allfather's spell had crumbled completely, Loki had woken up blue and chill. Bobby had woken a few minutes after at the touch of a blue hand on his face, seen him, and immediately moved close, delighted. To Jotun skin he felt like an affectionate furnace—his fingers blazed hot as they trailed along Loki's skin, his mouth hotter still against face and neck and chest.

“Your fascination with this form continues to perplex me, my beloved.”

At his comment, Bobby paused in his ministrations, laughing. “I _like_ it. You look _hot_ like this.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I should think I look precisely the opposite.”

“You _know_ what I mean. I mean, not that I don't _always_ like how you look, but... _blue._ You know I like blue people. You especially.”

He ducked his head again, but Loki caught his chin, pulling him back up so that their eyes could meet. Along their bond he could feel the energizing pulse of desire and adoration, and it was pleasing, but the sight of his own face reflected blue in the mirror on the wall suddenly irritated him, and he pulled away, climbing out of the bed. Bobby made a noise of protest and climbed out after him. “Did I say something wrong, or are you just grouchy this morning?”

“And what of the cold? What if I were to chill myself completely, so that frost grew on your skin when you touched me and your heartbeat grew slow? Then would you find this monstrous visage so alluring?” The mirror knew his true nature, and it showed him a beast, a savage in the guise of civilization.

 _Surprise,_ said the bond. _Puzzlement. Desire, desire, desire,_ a shocking spike of it, and flaming hands pulled him down, a bonfire mouth met his, opening to coax his tongue into its star-hot dampness as the bond said, _love, love, love._ As they kissed the bond formed words as well. _Did you not sleep well, divine one?_

_It was a night of many dreams. I'm surprised I didn't wake you._

_You_ should _have woken me. I'm sure I could have done_ something _to help you sleep._

 _Perhaps. You have not answered my question yet,_ with a touch of annoyance, _a_ lthough the attention _was_ cheering him up greatly.

_If you froze me to death I'd die loving you, and thinking you were looking pretty sexy._

_Your affections are like fire in this form, best beloved, and you love unwisely._ He broke the kiss and pulled his priest around so that they could look in the mirror together, Bobby's bright hair stark against his cobalt blue. “Does it please you, then, seeing yourself in the grip of a monster?”

“There are people who say that _I'm_ a monster, and I'm always pleased when I'm with you. Although it does sort of feel like I'm getting a hug from an ice cube. A sexy ice cube.” _Love, love, love._

“You fear no bogeys, then? No monsters come to eat you in the night?”

“You can eat me _any_ time you want.”

Now, finally, Loki smiled. “Somehow, beloved, I suspect you meant that in a different way than I did.”

“Mm. What gave it away?”

“Every line of your body.”

“Oh, good. I was doing it right. So if I'm in the grip of a monster then what's to become of me?” Bobby swooned theatrically. “Oh, la, I do believe I shall faint.”

Loki caught him gracefully as he half-fell. Where he touched, ice crystals formed and melted, and his priest shivered pleasingly. “Perhaps I shall have my monstrous way with you.” He drew a line of swiftly melting frost up his priest's stomach, tracing knotwork lines with silver rime. “I will read the omens in your skin and then lay you out to shout my name to the skies as you are taken.”

“Oh, p-please,” with another shiver. “You can't even read omens in your breakfast, let alone what I've got going on.”

“Then read them to me, my beloved.” He slid his hand down again, melting ice following his touch, and reached between his priest's legs with cold fingers. Bobby shuddered back against him, eyes closing. “Tell me the news of the world.”

“Oh, _cold..._ bar fights in town last night. Your name on a wall, your face in the thoughts of one of the fighters, _oh,_ an...anarchists. In France, in southern France, planning a demonstration in front of a town building. It'll be violent, it'll _get_ violent. _My_ name, hackers in a chat room planning an exploit, they're calling on _me. Oh..._ ”

He shook, with cold or the vision as it took him, Loki could not tell and did not especially care, his head falling back against Loki's shoulder as the knotwork on his skin writhed. The temperature in the entire room had now dropped, and Bobby's breath puffed in the chilly air. Privately, Loki now had to admit that over the years he had gained some appreciation for his Jotun form, in the bedroom if nowhere else. The cold did sometimes have...entertaining effects. For contrast he warmed his other hand and brushed along chilled skin, and his priest's knees buckled. Now it was only the blue arm around his chest that held him up.

“A storm. A storm is coming, the walls between the worlds will grow thin, the barriers are breaking down and I love you. _Oh,_ I love you.”

“Tell me of the storm. Will it serve my purposes?”

“It, _ah,_ it can be bent, it can be _made_ to serve your purposes. If you _ma-ake_ the right moves at the right time. When, _oh,_ when they come to you and ask for your help, _give_ it to them. Make them promise... _oh,_ I need, I need...”

“Yes, beloved.” Watching them in the mirror, Loki found that he was pleased with what he saw, that even in such a monstrous shape this he still had power, this shaking creature his to command. _His._ “Tell me what you require.”

“You, _oh,_ the vision, I can't hold the vision anymore, I need you, please, _oh,_ I need you, _oh cold..._ ” Bobby shook harder as Loki entered him, eyes snapping open, groaning even as Loki eased the way with magic. Flowers of ice bloomed and faded on his skin, and within he was unbearably hot, or almost unbearable but not quite so as he cried, “ _Oh,_ I need you, I need you...”

“I have you, my best beloved.” Loki slipped cold fingers into his priest's mouth, to silence him and to feel his heat. “You are mine.”

Bobby moaned around his fingers, transfixed by their image in the mirror, reaching back to pull their hips together, his back taut. _“Mm...”_

With each thrust the temperature in the room fluctuated, and it was somehow a pleasure in and of itself to watch the windows frosting and the bedposts going white. Only the books on their shelves were untouched. As the mirror before them grew ice crystals he pulled his damp fingers free and fisted his hand in Bobby's multicolored hair, pulling his head back to mouth at the smaller man's throat. “Mine.”

At the touch of icy lips on his jugular Bobby's back arched, his fingers digging into Loki's hips. “Yours.”

“Mine.” He thrust into that terrible heat and traced patterns in ice on flushed skin. “My priest, my dedicant, my beloved. _Mine._ ”

His priest was wracked with shivers, but his eyes were still wide, pupils blown, his breath quick and shallow with ecstacy as he shuddered into orgasm. “Yours, yours...”

And Loki came cold inside him, growling against his neck, _“Mine.”_


	9. Merlins Explains The New 52 To Tim Drake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Precisely as it sounds. Merlin tells Tim Drake all about the New 52, sometime during the events of [Worlds Enough](http://archiveofourown.org/works/551164/chapters/982015).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr: "This was a scene that I really wanted to write for [Worlds Enough](http://archiveofourown.org/works/551164/chapters/982015) but couldn’t find a spot for, because by the time it would have come up the story was pretty much all action all the time. The thing is, for Merlin the DC universe we see in WE is sort of a weird relic, strangely all-inclusive of everything before he was born and reading comics, and I wanted him to be able to tell someone this. It could’ve been Connor Hawke, but I figured that Merlin doesn’t have a ton of friends his age, so he gravitates towards the teen heroes when he has the chance, and he’s a big fan of the Batman family, so Tim was sort of an obvious choice. Also Merlin has a crush on him. Granted, Merlin sort of has a crush on _everybody_ right now. He has a crush on the entire DCU. He _is_ sixteen."

“So the Flash did it?”

“No. Yes. Sort of. The editors did it. Look, Red...can...can I just call you Tim?”

“...how do you know that's my name?”

“It's in the comics. I know pretty much everyone's name. I _promise_ I won't tell anyone, but there's nobody else here right now.”

A long pause, and then Tim Drake nodded. “Ok. But not when anyone else can hear. What do your friends call you?”

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. “I don't really have a lot of friends. I travel too much for it. But the ones I _do_ have call me Lin. And my uncle Anthony calls me Junior, but please don't call me that.”

“All right then.” Tim nodded again. “This way we're even. Lin.”

“Tim.” Puzzlingly enough (for Tim), Merlin blushed. “ _Anyway_ the New 52. It happened before I was born, so I don't have all the details—you should ask my mother about it, she has this whole _rant—_ but as far as I _know,_ the editors at DC—”

“DC?”

“DC Entertainment. They publish the stuff about this universe. The other big company, the one that does the stuff about my dad and his friends, they're Marvel.”

“What do the letters stand for?”

“Detective Comics. That's where Batman debuted, in Detective Comics number twenty-seven.”

“Hm. Go on.”

“So as far as I know, the editors at DC wanted to make it easier for new readers to pick up their series, so they decided to restart everything at issue one.”

“How many issues were there, then?”

“Well, this was in 2011, and a lot of their stuff had been going since the nineteen-thirties. So lots. There was a lot of continuity. So they did the whole Flashpoint thing, and everything was _really_ weird for a couple of months, and then they rebooted everything. Started things over. I mean, as far as I'm concerned it's sort of how things have always been, since I wasn't even _born_ until 2015, but...well, that's why I'm so confused by all of this. The way this is right now...this isn't _in_ continuity. Honestly a lot of it is more like the old cartoons than anything.” He paused, thinking about it, and then dug in his pocket for his iTab. “Here, I'll show you.”

Tim moved around to sit next to Merlin, watching with interest as he unfolded the tablet horizontally, then vertically, and tapped through several icon screens to bring up his comics app. “That's a very nice little machine.”

Merlin smiled. “Thanks. It was a present. My moms got it for me when I qualified to go to the Olympics. I have all my comics on here. Ok, good example, good example...Nightwing. That should work.” He opened a comic. “Here's your Nightwing.”

“Yes, I see. That's an unnervingly good likeness.”

“Isn't it?” He closed that comic and opened another. “ _This_ is the Nightwing that I'm used to seeing. That's last month's issue, actually.”

“Why is he wearing red? And that's...he doesn't wear that much armor.”

“See? Or...ooh. Here. This might be awkward, but...” _Tap tap tap._ “Here's Starfire.”

“Also a good likeness. She's very nice, I'll introduce you later if you like.”

“Thanks. I'd like that.” _Tap tap tap._ “And here's New 52 Starfire.”

Tim blinked. Several times. “That's...interesting. That's _very_ interesting. I think I'm a little upset by that.”

“You and everyone else. Mom said she nearly had an aneurysm when the first issue of _Red Hood and the Outlaws_ went out on the stands. It was a mess.”

“And she's working with Jason?”

“Yeah, I don't know what's up with that either. I mean, I like Jason Todd, but I don't read his comic.”

“He broke my arm once, you know.”

“...yeah. I know. I'm sorry. But he's...he's very...exciting.”

“He's a very attractive man.”

“Yeah. That. Although at this point I think my sexuality has been permanently warped by the fact that I just got my first kiss from _Catman._ ”

More blinking, and then _Tim_ started to blush. “What, really?”

“It...I was panicking. He wanted me to shut up.”

“...is he a good kisser?”

“Oh my god it was _amazing_ if you don't mind what blood tastes like.”

“Oddly, I'm used to that.”

“Right. Um.”

“Huntress never mentioned the blood taste when I asked _her._ ”

“Maybe she's used to it too?”

There was a long pause in which the two teens edged slightly apart, and then Tim coughed. “ _So._ This New 52 thing. What happened to Batman?”

“Nothing. He's Batman. They wouldn't mess with that.”


	10. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apropos of events in chapter 8 of [The Other Shoe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/720690), [leirobles](leirobles.tumblr.com) asked me about Merlin and Noh-Varr's first meeting/first impressions of one another. So I wrote this scene.
> 
> It's awkward. ^_^

_Noh-Varr:_

“You keep staring at me. Why?”

The boy on the other end of the couch turned bright red— _nearly_ as red as his hair, which fell in his eyes as soon as he moved—and promptly hid behind the tablet balanced on his drawn-up knees. “I wasn't staring! Why would I be staring?”

“You're...Merlin, right? Merlin Baker?” Noh-Varr frowned, putting down his book. “You were at the funeral. You're from one of the other worlds, the ones Tony Stark and his friends have access to.”

“Y-yeah, that's me.” Merlin lowered his tablet a bit. “But I hang out here a lot.”

The way he focused on things made Noh-Varr a little uncomfortable. He'd had diplomatic training. He knew a skilled sniper when he saw one, recognized how the other boy's pale eyes flicked over the room, gaze zeroing in on Noh-Varr's throat, his stomach, the joints of his shoulders. But there wasn't any malice in it, it wasn't a killing look—it seemed to be almost entirely involuntary. In fact it mainly seemed to make Merlin nervous; he had the trembling manner of a prey animal, but a prey animal that knew the location of every major vein and artery on Noh-Varr's body.

It was slightly unnerving.

“And you're on the team?”

“The big team, yeah. The one where it's both teams. I'm not really on either team by itself, I'm only on both of them together. But I hang out here mostly because I _like_ DC but I've kind of got some _history_ there and also my dad's from here so it's easier for me to get to because I can just go with him. Am I babbling? I'm babbling, I'll stop.”

“What do you do on the team?”

“I. Um. That's a good question. Mostly I read all the comics.”

Noh-Varr paused, processing that statement. It...didn't make sense. He knew, in theory, what comics were, but in this context the word didn't really compute. “I don't understand. Is this somehow connected to how you knew who I was before we were introduced?”

Merlin nodded silently and held up his tablet, just a bit.

“Show me.” He moved over to Merlin's end of the couch and sat down next to him.

“I—I. Um. Um ok I can do that, we can look at comics. Um. Noh-Varr. I can show you all my comics.” He tapped furiously at the screen of his tablet, now blushing so much that it had started to creep down the side of his neck. “Lemme pull up all the things I've got with you in them. Which is everything you've ever appeared in. I've got a whole category set up in my library, I don't know how people did this before the app had the cataloguing functions. Do—um. I have to know, I'm sorry if this is weird, do you have the short shorts?”

“The—what? Do you mean my uniform? I didn't think you'd seen me in it. How did you know about it?”

“Um.” Merlin moved just _slightly_ closer to him, just enough that it was clearly deliberate but not so much that it was _obviously_ flirting—flirtation was a thing that came in many gradations, as any student of even _basic_ diplomacy knew. “From this.”

He held up his tablet, and Noh-Varr's eyes went wide. “That's _very_ interesting. Do you have files like this on everyone? Where is this information from?”

“Yeah, pretty much everyone. But that's...really complicated.”

“I have time.” _This could be useful._

\--

_Merlin:_

_Oh, god._

_Oh, god, Noh-Varr._

_It's Noh-Varr, he's right here, he is_ sitting next to me, _oh my god._

_Oh god and he's really cute. He's really stupidly good-looking._

_I can't deal._

_Need to figure out character era. That's important._

_Please don't be the Protector. Please don't be the Protector. Please don't be the Protector._

“So. Uh. I, I know what you said at lunch after the funeral, but you're not _really_ planning on making Earth the center of a new Kree Empire, are you?”

“I don't see why not.”

“Are you...feeling any particular urge to declare yourself the Accuser of Earth?”

Noh-Varr blinked, seeming to consider it, and then smiled slightly. “It's not a _terrible_ idea.”

 _I can't handle this, I'm going to freak out and die._ “Well, then, um. What did you want to know? Who do you want to know about?”

Noh-Varr didn't respond immediately—his gaze lingered on the tablet screen, scanning down the list of comics titles. “Tell me everything.”


	11. A Gotham City Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a birthday gift for my friend meri47--a little bit of Spider-man and Nightwing bromance.

“I don't _get_ it. How do you bend like that _without_ superpowers?”

“Natural talent, my deeply creepy friend. Well, that and years of practice.”

“Hey, why am _I_ the creepy one?”

“Really? You're asking? You're _Spider_ -man. That's _pretty_ much the creepiest thing ever.”

“Yeah? Well, what's a _Nightwing_ supposed to be?”

“Classier than you?”

“I don't know _why_ I hang out with you when you just make fun of me all the time.”

“You've never run into anyone wittier than you and you're keen to find out how the other half lives.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“No you couldn't. I've never met anyone wittier than me yet.”

 _“Jesus.”_ The enwebbed robber dangling from the lamppost rolls his eyes. “Will you two just get a _room_ or something?”

Dick glances over at Peter, who cocks his head to one side and says, “Hm. Nightwing, are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

Dick grins. “I _think_ so, Spider-man, but how are we going to find that much non-dairy creamer at this time of night?”

“Oh, for _fuck's_ sake—”

“Nuh-uh. We weren't talking to you.”

“Kinda mean to leave him hanging, though, isn't it?”

“Well, he should have thought of that before he tried to rob that convenience store.”

“True, true. And I suppose I've seen Bats do worse things.”

“He _scares_ me.”

“He scares everyone. It's kind of his shtick. We should get moving.”

“Sounds like a plan. Later, guy!”

They leave the robber hanging from the lamppost, stop a few more minor crimes, and then pause on a roofstop, huffing quietly in the cool night air. Peter rolls up the bottom of his mask to get some airflow. “So. Wanna call it a night?”

Nightwing nods, combing his fingers through his hair and then shaking his arms out. “Sounds good. Where to?”

“I know a _killer_ all-night diner, few blocks from here, makes the _best_ blueberry pie I've ever had.”

“Oh, man, I would _hurt_ someone to get pie right now. Parkour race?”

“You read my mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like these, please let me know!


End file.
